


In these Moments (I Miss You)

by multifandom_fanatic



Series: Moments in Time [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Based on a One Direction Song, Canon Divergence - The Reichenbach Fall, Fake Character Death, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Ending, Grief/Mourning, Heartbreak, I promise all the pain is worth it, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mycroft Being a Good Brother, Mycroft Holmes Loves Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes Returns After Reichenbach, Mycroft falls from the roof of Barts instead of Sherlock, Mycroft in Love, Mycroft is not actually dead, POV Sherlock Holmes, PTSD Sherlock, Past Drug Use, Protective Big Brother Mycroft, Protective Mycroft, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Sherlock Holmes Has a Heart, Sherlock Holmes Loves Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock in Love, Sherlock is a Mess, Sibling Incest, Song Lyrics, Song fic, Songfic, holmescest, mylock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 02:15:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13649337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multifandom_fanatic/pseuds/multifandom_fanatic
Summary: Mycroft is the one to "fall" off the roof at St. Barts Hospital, and Sherlock is shattered by the revelation. Alone, without the love of his life, Sherlock falls into despair; his thoughts centered only around his brother and the love they never got to share. But things aren't quite as they appear, and maybe Sherlock isn't as alone as he thought he was. Maybe, just maybe, Mycroft loves Sherlock as much as Sherlock loves him, and maybe they were destined to be together after all.





	In these Moments (I Miss You)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tikatikox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tikatikox/gifts).



> So it's been a while since I wrote anything for this ship. I've had this idea in my head for like 5 months and I have finally been able to get it all written out to my liking. Please let me know what you think :)
> 
> Bear with me, I know most of this is internal monologue, so not much action until the end, but I really wanted to get into Sherlock's psyche to see his reactions if the tables had been turned and he thought he'd lost Mycroft. 
> 
> Thank you to my very best friend for being my supportive little sunshine and for encouraging me all this time, and for being excited about this fic since it's original conception all those months ago. Love you, Princess Belle!

_Shut the door, turn the light off. I wanna be with you; I wanna feel your love. I wanna lay beside you. I cannot hide this even though I try._

Why did you do it? I don't understand. I don't think I ever will. It was meant to be me. I was supposed to be up there, not you. I wasn't quick enough for Moriarty's game. I wasn't smart enough. But you were.

Did you know something I didn't? Were you in on it? Were you protecting me? Or just playing the game? Did he have you playing just like me? Was I so focused on the game I didn't notice you were part of it, too?

You weren't supposed to die. This wasn't part of the plan. Did we even have a plan for something like this? No… we didn't. Because we never thought it would come to this. You always said it was a game but _we_ could end it. You never said one of us had to die.

Why do it in front of me? Did you know how I felt? Could you feel the magnetic pull like I did? I felt it. Oh, I felt it. Oh, how I wanted you. Still want you. Every day. I want you here, with me, in my arms. I want your love. I want to go to sleep with you and wake up with you. I want to call you mine. Was I obvious with my feeling? Or did you completely miss the signs?

I loved you, Mycroft. No. I love you, Mycroft. Present tense. Your death doesn't change that. I love you.

_Heart beats harder. Time escapes me. Trembling hands touch skin, it makes this harder. And the tears stream down my face._

I watched you fall. I watched you jump. I watched you hit the floor. And I felt something inside of me break. Shatter. Explode. I wanted to reach out and touch you. I wanted to pick you back up and put you on top of the roof again. But you fell, fell, fell.

I think I cried as soon as it happened. I don't remember really. There were people screaming and I was sobbing. There was a blur of action, and I tried to get to you. I fought and screamed and cried but no one heard. I watched doctors take your body away. All I wanted was to feel your touch. To feel you ruffle my hair again like when we were kids. Or for you to brush your thumb across my cheek lovingly. But you didn't. You fell. And you died.

_If we could only have this life for one more day. If only we could turn back time._

I would do anything to switch places with you. Day in and day out, I sit here on the sofa and wish it had been me. I never wanted to live in a world without you.

If I could, I'd go back and beg for one more day. One more day so I could tell you how I really felt. One more day to reach out, close the distance between us, and kiss you. You wouldn't have rejected me, right? I don't think you would have. I like to think the feelings I had were reciprocated. They were, weren't they? I guess I'll never know now.

There's never been anyone else, Mycroft. It's always been you. It'll always be you. And I won't want anyone but you. Ever.

_You know I'll be your life, your voice, your reason to be. My love, my heart, is breathing for this moment in time. I'll find the words to say before you leave me today._

I hate you. I hate that you jumped off that roof. I hate you for it. It was meant to be me up there and I hate you for dying. Maybe I would have been able to live if I had been up there with Moriarty. We had so many different plans, why did you chose to ignore them all and fall?

Didn't you know what it would do to me?

You didn't, did you?

You always said you were the smart one.

You weren't.

If you had been the smart one you would have known your death would destroy me.

I could have saved you. Maybe I would have if you had given me the chance to confess my love. You were already my everything. I could have been yours. I thought we already were.

Come back. Please come back, Mycie. I want to tell you I love you. I want you to see I mean it. Not just as brothers, but as lovers.

I constantly relive that moment in time over and over again. I watch you fall, and fall, and fall. And every time I try and save you. But I'm always too late. Why can't I save you? Why wasn't I enough?

I know what I want to say to you now. I didn't then. But now I do. In the moment, as you said goodbye, the words were frozen in my throat; burning me from the inside out. I couldn't say it. I wish I had.

Mycroft, I love you.

_Close the door. Throw the key. Don't wanna be reminded, don't wanna be seen. Don't wanna be without you. My judgement's clouded like the night sky._

Everything inside of me is screaming for you all the time. I can't keep the door to your room closed in my mind palace. It's always open, always leaking your presence. I can barely stay lucid anymore. I find myself disappearing into my mind more and more every day, drowning in you; being consumed by you.

Your memory drowns me. How am I supposed to move on?

John hates me. He's staying with some girlfriend most of the time. I barely move off the sofa. I can't. I just can't bring myself to do anything anymore. There's no thrill in the game if you aren't there, giving me that little smile that proved you were proud of me.

I fell for that smile. Fell for it when I was 16, and nothing has changed since then.

I hate thinking of you. It hurts and yet my mind wanders back to you without my consent. John says it’s normal that I can’t stop thinking about you; that it was a shock to my system. He has no idea. He doesn’t know how I feel for you, and he never will. I’m in love with you, Mycroft. So why the hell did you do this to me? You had to know I was in love with you. You were the smart one. You had to know the truth.

_Hands are silent, voice is numb. Try to scream out my lungs, it makes this harder. And the tears stream down my face._

I can’t seem to do anything without you around anymore. I had so many rows with John that he left. I refused to talk to Lestrade anymore. I can’t bring myself to work on cases unless you’re there to congratulate me. Mrs. Hudson rarely walks up the stairs anymore. I screamed at her too much. No one can deal with me anymore.

You grounded me, Mycroft.

Without you, there’s nothing for me to do but lay here on the sofa and let my brain rot. I used to care. The work was the most important thing to me; that’s what I said to everyone. It was a lie. You were the most important thing to me, and now that I don’t have you, the work and my brain just don’t seem important anymore. I wanted to impress you; to make you see how I felt about you wasn’t just brotherly.

The emotions are too much for me to handle. I’m not sure if the tears are from anger at you leaving me or the pain of sadness at losing you. I hate it. You’re the only one who could make me feel so emotional. So sentimental. I’m sure you would loathe to see me acting like such a fool. It’s your fault, Brother Dear, for making me fall for you.

_If we could only have this life for one more day. If only we could turn back time. You know I'll be your life, your voice, your reason to be. My love, my heart, is breathing for this moment in time. I'll find the words to say before you leave me today._

It's usually at night when I can't fight the memories anymore. That's when I picture you, 23 years old, with that smile on your face that you only showed when we were alone together. You had just come back home after your first year of working in that lowly position in the government. I was going to university soon. But it was the way you looked at me when I came to greet you. It was this mix of adoration and hunger. It only lasted a second, but that's when I knew what my feelings for you were. I wanted you.

I tried to drop hints at you for the entire three weeks you were at home. You never made a move on me, though.

I wish things between us had never gotten complicated. I would do anything to go back to that summer when you looked at me like you wanted me as much as I wanted you. I wish I had said it to your face; that I wanted you.

The next time I saw you, you had a boyfriend. Richard. I hated you then. Why did you do that to me, Mycroft? You knew how I felt about you. You had to know that I was in love with you.

I would have done anything to be with you. You always said you loved me; that you'd do anything to protect me. Did you ever realize that I turned to drugs because you would never love me enough? That no matter what I did, I could never get you to admit there might be something between us more than just a brother bond.

If I had said it- said I love you like a lover- would it have changed anything? Would you still have fell? Or would you have stayed here with me?

_Flashing lights in my mind. Going back to the time; playing games in the street, kicking balls with my feet. _

You dying has made me reflect on everything. I remember when we were kids and you were always there to complete experiments with me. Even when you had schoolwork or were going off to uni, you always offered your input on whatever I had decided to work on.

You always had this little proud smile on your face when I showed you what I had just discovered. It was addicting.

There's always a flash of memories when I remember how you took care of me when we were kids. How you looked out for me. How you would ruffle my hair affectionately when I had done something well; it was like your silent way of saying you loved me.

Did you know it was all those little insignificant moments- when you would flash me a smile or your eyes would show some unknown emotion that went deeper than brotherhood- that would make me fall for you?

If you had known, I'm sure you never would have let it happen.

Those are my favourite memories of you. When you looked at me with so much adoration; like you were proud of me, like you loved me. There was always a hint of something else in your eyes; a barrier we couldn't cross but we wanted to.

Then you got a boyfriend, I turned to drugs, and we were never the same. I just wanted your attention. But I became a disappointment to you. And I hated you; hated you for not noticing me, for ignoring the electricity between us, but mostly I hated you for being you.

If you hadn't been so right for me…

_There's a numb in my toes. Standing close to the edge. There's a pile of my clothes at the end of your bed. As I feel myself fall, make a joke of it all._

You, standing up there on the edge of the roof; looking down at me just like you always did. You always looked down at me.

For a long time, when the drugs came between us, I could see the look in your eyes. I could see the way I disgusted you. How I had let you down.

And I loathed myself even more for it. The more you hated me for what I had become, the more I turned to drugs. It was a vicious cycle I could not stop. But then, when John came around and I got clean…

You looked at me differently. Like you used to when we were younger.

I could see it. See the spark in your eyes. You wanted me, didn’t you? You must have recognized the signs. Must have seen the same look in my eyes reflected back at you.

But then you were on the roof. It’s always the roof. Every time I think of you, I can see you, perched on the edge. I can hear your voice through the speaker on my phone; watching your lips move as the words fall and disappear down the invisible line connecting our phones.

“I’m sorry, Sherlock. I truly am."

I laughed. Of course I did. It was funny. When have you ever been truly and honestly sorry? About anything? Ever? You’re Mycroft Holmes. You aren’t really sorry for anything.

But there you were, apologizing to me. And I barked out a laugh because it was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard.

I had this sudden flash in my mind. The umbrella I stole from your house a couple months prior. It was still in my room, propped in the corner. I looked at it at night when I wanted you most. When I needed you by my side and you weren’t there. When I desired you so badly it ached in my chest and sent waves of nausea through my body.

I remember the umbrella. Your umbrella. In my room. And I knew it was the last piece of you I would hold on to. The last remnant I would get to keep.

“Goodbye, Sherlock. Be safe, Brother Mine.”

The phone slipped from your fingers. You tipped ever so slightly forward. And then you dropped. Plummeted.

I laughed. Then I screamed. Cried. Howled. Ran for you. But it was too late. You left me. The undercurrent of your love for me beneath the words “be safe” ricocheting in my mind.

_You know I'll be your life, your voice, your reason to be. My love, my heart, is breathing for this moment in time. I'll find the words to say before you leave me today._

John says I went ballistic afterwards. I can’t remember a thing. You were everywhere and nowhere and I couldn’t think.

Apparently, there was screaming.

Fighting.

There was a knife. The knife I use for experiments. I went for it without realizing. John tackled me.

There was more screaming.

Everything was wet. Crying.

I wanted to join you. How dare you leave me like this? How dare you! You knew that you were my life. My soul. My everything. Of course you had to know. You’re Mycroft Holmes, you know everything.

I didn’t want to be without you. How did you expect me to keep going? To move on; when the love of my life since I was sixteen died in front of me?

They took all the things out of the flat. John and Mrs. Hudson. Everything that was remotely dangerous. John kept a close eye on me for weeks. But the more he watched the more I snapped until I pushed him away.

I just wanted you. I want you.

I love you so much, Mycroft. It physically hurts.

John said something about me being in shock and shutting down. Possible form of post-traumatic stress disorder. Maybe he’s right. I don’t know anymore.

I just keep replaying your death over and over again. The words ‘I love you’ hovering on my lips, just a breath away. The biggest regret I will ever have. In those last few moments where we stood apart- you on the edge of the roof and me on the sidewalk across the road- the silence enveloping us was suffocating. I opened my mouth, wanting the words to tumble out and fill the space between us.

You didn’t give me the chance, though. I took a breath, ready to confess my love for you. I think you knew I was about to say something that would change everything; change us. You interrupted me; stopped me from saying the words we both needed to hear.

“I’ll always be there for you, Sherlock.”

**Liar.**

I wanted to scream it at you. Liar, liar, **liar!**

How could you always be there for me if you killed yourself?

The accusation weighed down my tongue, choking me.

It was in that moment, I hated you and loved you. I should have just said it. Just said that I loved you, you bastard. But instead, you cut me off and said goodbye. Then you fell.

Every time I replay the memory it doesn’t change. I try to say I love you, you slip from my grasp. I vow to say I love you the next time, but each time you fall, and the words get lodged in my throat and they never leave my lips.

I love you, Mycroft. I just wanted you to know. I needed you to be aware of how much I love you. Maybe next time I’ll tell you before you fall.

_You know I'll be your life, your voice, your reason to be. My love, my heart, is breathing for this moment in time. I'll find the words to say. Before you leave me today._

I think I spend most of my waking moments in my mind palace in your room. I let you consume me. When I’m not awake, I dream of you. You’re always there, a constant presence.

I’m stuck between reliving the memories and thinking; thinking of the regrets I have and of your last moments with me. Most of the time it’s not about the memories; it’s about your voice. I miss your voice. I miss you talking to me. Just talking.

After I started getting clean and taking on proper cases with John, you started talking to me again. We actually had conversations like we used to when we were younger. It made me love you even more.

Just when I thought you might reciprocate, you bolted. You took the easy way out. You faced Moriarty and took on the consequences, and instead of confronting me, you fell and left me.

‘Be safe, Brother Mine.’

That’s the last thing you said to me. Would you be disappointed in me now? After I tried to take my own life and am now wasting away as I spend my time in my mind palace with you. Would you consider that being safe? Is this what you wanted for me?

I think that’s enough thinking and regret for one day. Now sounds like a good time to go back into your room. Maybe John will show up later and force me to eat something. Right now, I need to see you again.

I let my eyes slide shut, and your voice echoes and wraps around me like a warm blanket on a cold day.

“Oh, Sherlock, what have you done?”

Mycie. I miss you. Don’t leave me here alone to ache over your loss. The loss of the only person I ever loved.

Footsteps. The floor shudders slightly under the balls of my feet pressed into the rug at 221B. It’s distracting me from the memories of you. I’m staying in my mind palace. John can wait. I need to be with you right now.

“Sherlock. Come back to me. Come on.”

Stop. Stop encouraging me. You are the one who should be coming back to me. You left me, Mycroft. You left me.

A hand on my cheek. Fingers running over my stubble, tipping my head forwards.

I imagine it’s you. I imagine you finally confessing that you love me. Tilting my head to kiss me. I merge old images of you and try to picture what it would have been like. Your lips and mine. The perfect match.  
“Sherlock. It’s time to leave your mind palace. Open your eyes. Come on. Look at me.”

Shaking. Someone is shaking my shoulders; dislodging the illusion of us kissing from the room.

I snap my eyes open, ready to lash out at John.

But there you are in front of me. Your hand is on my cheek, your face hovering above mine. The same image from your room. I must still be in my mind palace.

“Oh, Brother Mine, what have you done to yourself?”

I reach out to touch you and you let me. Definitely not real.

“Mycie. I love you,” I mumble. I said it. I actually said it. I don’t understand. Why was I able to say it this time? You always fall before I can say it…

“Oh, Sherlock.” You thumb caresses my cheek. “I thought you knew how I felt for you. Why I had to do what I did.”

I started to shake my head. Not real, not real. “Not real.”

You cock your head to the side. Realization dawns on your face. You tried to open your mouth to speak, but I didn’t want you to. If this was a dream, a figment of my mind palace, then I had control and I wanted to be the one to lean in first.

I reached up and traced my fingers along your jaw. “It’s not real; can’t be real.”

Pushed my fingers back into your hair, feeling the soft strands slip through my fingertips. “Not possible. Saw you fall. Not possible. Not real. You aren’t here with me. Not possible. You left me. You aren’t real,” I mumbled. I’m babbling but I don’t really care. You always had that effect on me; making me lose my words.

“Sherlock, I-”

“Please, don’t,” I choke out. I let my hands slide down. The moment you try to say anything back to me, you always slip away. Please just let me have this.

My fingers reach up and trace gently over your lips. It feels real. Please. “Not real, not real, not real.” It becomes a mantra.

You reached up, interlocking our fingers. “Sherlock,” you whispered.

That was all it took.

I broke.

“Mycroft, I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

I’m leaning in, and you let me. I need to prove to myself that you’re not real, but I also need you to know how much I love you; that’s it’s not brotherly love, that I am giving myself to you.

My eyes flicker up and we lock gazes for a moment. I’m not sure who closes the gap but suddenly we’re kissing.

I’m waiting for it; the moment where it all slips away and disappears into the cracks of my mind palace. Waiting for you to fade away, for it to end like every other time I’ve imagined this moment happening.

But you don’t.

You’re right there. And we’re kissing. My hands are tightening in your hair, tugging you closer to my body. Your arms wrap around my neck and you hum softly against my lips. I think I’m in Heaven. Maybe I have died and joined you.

Your tongue darts out and caresses my lips and I open up willingly. The kiss is deepened as your tongue explores my mouth.

I hold on tighter. ‘Don’t go. Please don’t go. I love you.’

You lean up, not breaking the kiss, and your body is bucking into mine, pressing me down further into the back of the sofa. I groan heavily, breaking this kiss to look up at you.

You’re still here. We kissed and our bodies touched, lighting fires in my soul, and you’re still here.

Your forehead rests against mine, and I lean my head up, our lips ghosting over each other’s. I let myself sink into you; our bodies melding into one.

Finally, I understand. My eyes fly open, and you’re looking at me so fondly I feel myself melting further into your touch. “You’re here. You’re alive. You came back for me,” I mumble against your lips.

“Yes, Brother Dear, I did come back for you. I did say I’ll always be there for you; I meant it,” you whisper back.

“It was fake then? You didn’t die?”

“No.”

“Where did you go? Why did you do it?”

“Europe. Undercover casework. I did it for the same reason I’ve ever done anything. To protect you.”

“Don’t-” I choked on the words. I tugged you even closer, forcing you to straddle my waist. “Don’t leave me again. I can’t do it. Please, My, I-”  
“Shush, my love, I know. I love you, too, Sherlock. I have for so long. I’m here now. I promise to take care of you,” you murmured softly, your lips pressing the barest of kisses to mine.

“Please,” I begged softly.

“Oh, Sherlock.” You leaned down properly, connecting our lips together again. It was perfect. It was you.

It was coming home.

Your arms are around my shoulders again, your fingers playing with the curls of my hair, ruffling them softly just like I had been so desperate for. It’s simultaneously too much and not enough. I pull back slightly. “Tell me again.”

“Sherlock. I’m here, I’m alive, and I love you.” You trail kisses from my forehead, down over my eyelids, over my cheeks, across my jaw, and down my neck.

When I open my eyes- for the first time since I saw you fall- I’m seeing the real you, and I believe it. When you initiate the kiss, our tongues dancing and lips melding together as one, I know without a doubt that you love me. You pull back, our lips brushing together tantalizingly, and you say it again with conviction.

“I love you, Sherlock.”

**Author's Note:**

> Song: Moments by One Direction (Written by Ed Sheeran)
> 
> Part Two will be coming soon, and I promise it will contain so much fluff and smut! Just a pre-warning ;)


End file.
